When Duty Calls
Page 37
With the box clutched to his chest Santana began the long run back. A bullet plucked at his right sleeve, and others kicked up geysers of mud all around him, as he dodged back and forth. “They know what we’re up to!” Kobbi advised over the push. “Pull back! Pull back! It’s time to haul ass!”
Santana caught up with Zolkin, who along with Kelly, was supporting Four-Four. The Seebo had taken a bullet in the thigh and was bleeding badly. Other heavily laden officers streamed toward the ship as well even as the Xinglong’s energy cannons sent bolts of iridescent blue energy fanning out over their heads. One of the officers threw up her hands and fell facedown when a burst of bullets hit her from behind. The brain box she had been carrying fell, landed in the mud, and was quickly scooped up as one of the surviving bio bods grabbed it.
Metal clanged under combat boots, and the stench of ozone permeated the air, as the officers charged up the ramp and into the freighter. Kobbi was there to count them off. “Twenty-two, twenty-three, where the hell is Colonel Six?” the general demanded.
On hearing that, Kelly turned and made a run for the ramp, only to be tackled by Santana. Both of them crashed to the deck as servos began to whine, and Orlo-Ka brought the ramp up. Kelly fought her way clear of Santana and ran over to a bank of screens, where the loadmaster could monitor everything that took place outside his ship. That was when she saw the waves of Ramanthian troopers, and heard the distant chug, chug, chug of a .50-caliber machine gun as Six harvested a few more lives. Then he was gone, swarmed under by an angry mob, as thousands of Ramanthian bullets hammered against the ship’s hull.
There was a noticeable jerk as the Xinglong lifted off and wobbled into the air. One of the bugs was hanging on to a skid, but Brisco shook him loose, and continued to climb. The bug deployed his wings, and was planning to glide in, when hundreds of bullets fired by his comrades ripped his body apart.
Meanwhile, high above the body-strewn LZ, the freighter continued to gain altitude. Most of the passengers were seated by then, if not very comfortably, in fold-down seats. Kelly continued to sob, even as she knelt in a pool of Four-Four’s blood, and fought to save a man who looked like Six but was actually someone else. Zolkin was there, trying to help the doctor find the big bleeder, and eventually clamp it off.
Santana sat slumped in a web-style seat. His eyes were open but unseeing. A battle had been lost, but the war would continue, and the Legion would be in the thick of it. And, all things considered, that was the only thing he needed to know.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Though not based on the Korean War, or World War II, some of the events in this novel were inspired by both. In particular, the nature of the wintry battles in which Santana and his company take part would be recognizable to any of the marines who fought in the Chosin Reservoir campaign in 1950, except that what they managed to accomplish was far more heroic than anything in this book. Because in Korea, some 12,000 leathernecks were surrounded by 60,000 Chinese soldiers north of the Yalu River, yet still managed to fight their way out of the wintry mountains, taking their dead and wounded with them. For those who would like to read more about that campaign, I recommend Breakout by Martin Russ.
By the same token, those familiar with the Battle of Dunkirk in World War II will recognize the evacuation of planet Gamma-014 as being very similar to the effort by roughly 700 privately owned fishing boats, yachts, and other vessels to remove some 338,000 Allied soldiers from the beaches of Dunkirk in a period of just nine days. Sadly, more than 30,000 British troops were killed, more than 8,000 went missing, and 1,212,000 Dutch, Belgian, French, and British soldiers were taken prisoner by the Germans, who lost 10,000 soldiers during the battle.
These were real battles, involving real men and women, to whom all Americans owe so much. Their courage astounds me.